Over My Head
by Chelsea Oz
Summary: One shot. Jean Finch is a young, expectant wife and mother. She feels totally overwhelmed and alone in her daily life until her husband shows up when she unexpectedly needs him the most.


In the summer of 1925 I had a husband, a son and I found out I was pregnant again. I knew I was going to have another baby because I only ever had nerves like those when I was pregnant for Jeremy. I wasn't excited to know this time around though. Everybody assumes your bound to have another and here I was doing it. I didn't pop them out one right after the other but nonetheless. I had told Atticus upfront exactly why I was going to Dr. Reynolds' office and to not be shocked if it turned out we were expecting. I didn't show it but I was ticked off that he felt as non-chalant as I felt about this. I figured that he was a practical man and probably wouldn't show so much emotion until after the doctor confirmed things. I was wrong: I got that phone call and after I had hung up, I noticed he was standing in the hallway. I nodded at him and he kind of smiled as he walked over to me and hugged me. He walked away from me without a kiss or telling me he loved me. I was even more ticked off.

I didn't waste my time on anger. I had a little boy to worry about and there was no room for petty emotions like the ones I was having. I had a part-time housekeeper named Calpurnia that came to help me with the cooking and cleaning a few times a week but most of the time I did it everything on my own. I got up at seven o'clock every morning and got myself washed up first thing. I got so that I had breakfast cooking by seven-thirty, Jem out of bed by seven-forty five, and woke Atticus up by eight. Once Atticus got up, we would all have breakfast together. Jem stayed in his high chair while I did the dishes and Atticus got washed up himself. Once Atticus left for his office, I would spend time with Jem. I liked to read books to him and I made him learn the letters along the way. He was a runner from the time he was walking and so I liked to send him outside while I sat on the porch and just watched. At around eleven I called him in to play with his toys while I prepared lunch. He always ate lunch by himself because that was the time I used to catch up on dishes. Then at around one I sent him to bed for nap time while I did whatever necessary housework, laundry and fixed a little lunch for myself while I got dinner cooking. Jem usually stayed in his room until Atticus came home at five and by six we would have dinner. I had Jem bathed and sent back to bed at eight.

My life has become too routine. I used to sit on the porch in my nightgown after I put Jem to bed and think about the monotonous days that seemed to blend in with each other. I loved my little boy more than life itself but in loving him, I felt as though I had lost myself. There were times when I was on that porch where I would like back and look at my husband as he sat in the living room chair and read his fucking newspaper. His little quirks that I used to find endearing now made me want to grind my teeth. Was I losing him, too? Were we in this sinkhole together and losing each other into some black abyss? Why don't people just come on out and say that yes, this is exactly what marriage is? Why doesn't Atticus notice I cry while I sit on this swing and think about my life?

He noticed the night he found out for sure I was pregnant. Funny because this was honestly the one night I didn't want him to notice me. Tears streamed down my face and I didn't bother to wipe them. Atticus didn't bother, either; he just sat down next to me, never touched me.

"Are you all right?" He asked me.

"Sure," I said.

"Are you all right?" He asked me again.

"I said yes."

"No, you said sure. Sure does not mean yes."

"Well, of course it could."

"You know you're not being honest with me. Are you scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"The new baby coming."

"Of course not!"

"Are you scared of raising Jem?"

"No."

"Are you scared of being married to me?"

"No."

You bastard, I thought to myself. Fresh tears began to fall from my eyes with every nerve he hit. That son of a bitch knew damn well I was scared of everything and he was using his lawyer side to exploit my fears. My head collapsed into his lap as he began to rub my hair. We stayed that way for a long time before I finally picked my head up. I took his face in my hands and gave his lips a kiss. It felt good to have him kiss me back. I missed my husband that way.

"You're all right," he told me as he took my hand into both of his.

"Yes," I said as I kissed his cheek. "I'm all right. Thank you."


End file.
